Dangerous Discussions
by wbss21
Summary: A psychiatrist at Arkham learns just how dangerous is can be to treat The Joker.
1. Chapter 1

**Dangerous Discussions**

**Chapter 1:**

Dr. Jeremy Harkins sat impatiently at the small table, staring down at and continuously shifting the varied materials spread out before him; a case file which might as well have been a novel, a fresh note pad, a pen, and some blank paper. That was it. That was all he had been allowed to bring with him in to the small room. The pen had been a point of contention. He felt uneasy, for some reason. He had been stead-fast in his determination not to let the task at hand intimidate him or to come in to this assignment with anything less then total self-confidence. He put the subtle nerves down to anxiousness, wanting to get started, and left it at that.

He had been briefed, at length, by Arkham's leading psychiatrist regarding the patient he was soon to undertake. Dr. Bartholomew was not shy with his bluntness, especially when it came to The Joker, the institute's most notorious patient, and Gotham City's most feared criminal mastermind. None of the other resident therapist's wanted to touch the inmate with a ten foot poll and Dr. Bartholomew was too busy running the asylums schedule and organizing the daily routines of each patient to be anyone's regular doctor.

Dr. Harkins was new, had only come on board a few months previous, but was eager to establish himself. He had campaigned for the job, hard, taking time out of his day, every day, to discuss the matter with Bartholomew, presenting a different argument each time as to why he felt he was qualified to take on the one case which was widely regarded throughout Arkham to be the only, truly hopeless cause. Harkins had finished top of his class from Harvard Medical and already had built up an impressive resume in places like Metropolis and New York. He had dealt with some real nut jobs, some very dangerous and disturbing individuals in his residency at those places, and felt he was ready for anything Arkham could throw his way.

"_You don't know The Joker Jeremy." Dr. Bartholomew said, looking warily at the fresh faced psychiatrist who sat directly across from him. "He's incredibly dangerous. I can't stress that enough."_

"_I'm aware of that Sir." Dr. Harkins tried to reassure. "But no one else has offered to take him up and I doubt very much that it's going to win you brownie points if you force one of our doctors to treat The Joker against their wishes."_

_Dr. Bartholomew sighed, removing his seeing glasses and rubbing absentmindedly at the bridge of his nose._

"_I know." He mumbled. They sat in silence for a few brief moments before the older man spoke again._

"_Listen, Jeremy, I'm going to let you do it. But you must listen very, VERY carefully to me."_

_Harkins sat attentively, unable to mask the delight he felt from finally getting what he wanted._

"_Yes Sir." He sat waiting._

"_If it were up to me, nobody would even be treating The Joker at this point." Bartholomew began. "But state law requires that all inmates here at Arkham receive rehabilitative treatment, and that includes therapy sessions at least once a week."_

_Dr. Harkins nodded._

"_I've held several sessions with him myself, and I got no where with him. Do you understand? Absolutely no where."_

"_I'm aware of that Sir."_

"_But that's not what concerns me." Dr. Bartholomew paused, looking around the room as though searching for the right words. _

"_When I say he's dangerous, I don't just mean physically Jeremy. The physical threat he presents, and it IS substantial, takes a back seat to the psychological danger he poses… He's __incredibly__ intelligent, frighteningly so."_

"_I know Sir, but his mind is also a fractured one, and I'm certain I can hold my ow…"_

"_You're not listening to me son." Dr. Bartholomew cut him off. "The Joker may be insane, but that's what makes the contrast of his intellect all the more startling. His mind is as sharp as they come Jermey. I've never encountered anyone with the kind of depth perception he has. He sees everything… __everything__."_

_Harkins just nodded._

"_He'll see things in you Jeremy, weaknesses that you weren't even aware existed, and he'll exploit them. Do you understand? He'll turn you on yourself if you aren't careful." _

_Dr. Bartholomew was looking the young doctor straight in the eye and held an expression as though he himself had fallen victim to what he was relaying. Harkins again nodded._

"_On top of which, Jeremy, he's a __genius__. He has a deep and intricate understanding of chemicals and how they affect the brain and body. If he wasn't mad, he would probably be this country's leading chemist and geneticist. All of those poisons you hear about him using, all of those gases…"_

_Harkins listened._

"_He developed all of those on his own. He's brilliant. It's almost a shame he can't use those gifts to benefit man kind. But he's a monster, and I've lost all sense of hope in his case. I probably shouldn't even tell you about the time he escaped here by mixing cleaning chemicals from one of the janitor closets, God-damned __cleaning__ chemicals. He made a less potent form of his signature gas. If he'd had all the regular properties, I'm sure he would have made it to kill. None the less, the guards and orderlies he used it on were in the hospital for months before the stuff finally began to wear off, and some of them still have paralysis in their lower jaws. _

_Dr. Harkins looked startled, but Bartholomew continued on._

"_I can't stress enough how important it is that you watch yourself around him. Watch what you say to him, because he'll use it to hurt you. Don't tell him anything about yourself Jeremy; don't answer any of his questions about you or try to appease him. Did I tell you about Dr. Lewis?"_

_Harkins shook his head no._

"_Jesus…" Bartholomew grumbled to himself. "Dr. Lewis was similar to you Jeremy in that he was top of his graduating class, highly accomplished at a young age, had already dealt with numerous sociopaths and psychotics by the time he got to Arkham…" The doctor stopped, shaking his head in apparent disbelief. _

"_This was a good few years' back now. He came to the conclusion that the only way to treat The Joker was through what we referred to in our circles as "definitive therapy"…or more commonly known as a lobotomy."_

"_But, lobotomies, those aren't legal any lon…"_

"_Yes, yes, I know." Dr. Bartholomew waved him off. "Up until a few years ago, they were very rarely considered a treatment option; they were looked down upon in almost every circle of the psychiatric community, seen as barbaric. No one until Dr. Lewis had ever even suggested such a thing for any of our patients here, not even The Joker. It was radical. None the less, the suggestion was accepted by the board of review…" _

_He paused again. Dr. Harkins waited patiently. _

"_So… what happened?" He finally asked._

"_What happened!?" Dr. Bartholomew half-laughed. "More like what __didn't__ happen. Basically what banned lobotomies as a treatment option in every state in the damned country, that's what happened. Wholesale ban, no exceptions."_

"_So?" Jeremy asked again._

"_The Joker somehow switched places with Dr. Lewis and the operation was performed on the sorry sap." _

_Harkins looked confused. "I'm sorry? What?"_

_Dr. Bartholomew sighed. _

"_The Joker somehow knew about Dr. Lewis' proposal to the board, and he made him pay for it. We still don't know how he snuck all those materials in, the dye, the chemicals, the make-up. He made Dr. Lewis look just like him. Woulda' fooled just about anybody who didn't look really closely. Even pumped him with another non-lethal version of that chemical of his, put a face splitting grin on the poor guy, died his skin bone white, his hair green. He couldn't talk 'cause The Joker had also somehow mixed in a chemical which scrambles the part of the brain that controls speech patterns. The surgeons performing the operation had never seen The Joker before then, so they didn't know. And the guards in this place never pay attention to anything like that. The Joker made him self out to look just like poor Dr. Lewis, waltzed right out of here without anyone ever taking a second glance, and just to be certain the doctor got what he thought he deserved, Joker also subscribed him a heavy sedative so he was knocked out through the next morning. Nobody knew what had gone wrong until the next day, until __after__ the lobotomy. Following that screw up, the procedure was made totally illegal…"_

"_My God." Dr. Harkins whispered, more to himself then to anyone else._

"_Yeah, Dr. Lewis now resides in a low maintenance nursing home in upstate New York."_

_The two psychiatrists remained silent for a good half-minute._

"_So just be careful, okay?" Dr. Bartholomew finally said. "Don't tell him anything about yourself, don't let him talk you in to an argument, don't try and outsmart him. Keep the focus on __him__ and him alone. And don't ever, __ever__ underestimate him. Do you understand?"_

_Harkins nodded. _

"_You want me to tell you about Dr. Quinzel?" _

"_No, no, that's okay Sir. I think I get the picture."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

When the door to the small, spare room at last opened, Dr. Harkins stood abruptly, bracing himself for what he was about to confront. A large, burley looking man entered, walking over to the table and chairs situated in the center, and began scanning above and below each piece of furniture, feeling his hands along the edges and surfaces. When he appeared satisfied he turned again and left. Dr. Harkins was a bit puzzled and remained standing, watching the door intently. A few moments later, it again swung open, led once more by the same, big man from before, followed closely behind by The Joker and another guard walking directly behind him, his hands pressed against the inmates back.

The Joker was led to the table, a few feet in front of Dr. Harkins, who stared unabashedly at his new patient. The madman's appearance, Harkins had to admit, was striking, something he hadn't exactly prepared for. The contrast of the two, heavily built and muscular guards on either side of his emaciated looking, bony frame added to the affect, as did their moderately tanned skin in comparison to his paper white tone. And he was tall. Extremely tall, hovering above even the 6 foot plus men flanking him, and making Dr. Harkins 5 feet, 11 inches look decidedly short. His hair was a dark green, almost black or blue if seen in the right light, and hung in short, straight strands behind his ears and a little over his forehead, just above his eyes. And what eyes they were. Dr. Harkins was caught momentarily in them; they're pale shade of green reminding him of a lime fruits flesh. They stared back at the psychiatrist with an unusual intensity and concentration, unmoving. What struck Jeremy most though, what really threw him off balance, was that The Joker, despite his unusual coloration, was actually handsome. His nose was long, but straight and not hooked like was often depicted in cartoon representations of him, his cheekbones were high and pronounced, his lips were a dark red but not too large or too thin and his brow ridge seemed to flow seamlessly in to his forehead. It was bizarre.

"Ahem…" the doctor cleared his throat to begin, trying to ignore the feeling of intimidation creeping up on him. "Good morning Mr… uh, Joker." He said, sticking his hand out.

The Joker's hands were shackled together by heavy-duty cuffs with a short chain between either end, and the same linked his feet, with a longer chain connecting the two sets together up the middle.

"That's not really a good idea Sir." One of the two guards suddenly spoke up.

"Hmm?" Dr. Harkins looked up at the man. "I'm sorry?"

The guard nodded his head towards Harkins outreached hand.

"It's probably best you don't make physical contact." He warned one more time.

The psychiatrist looked momentarily bewildered before bringing his hand back slowly. "Oh." He said, absentmindedly, before his eyes flicked back to The Joker, who was now smiling. Harkins was in for another shock as he realized how his new patients grin seemed to completely _change_ his appearance. It seemed to stretch from ear to ear, the corners of his mouth nearly reaching to the center of each cheek, and his face became suddenly menacing. Not like a regular smile, where a person's face might light up or look joyous, no, The Joker's smile made him look mean, _cruel_ even.

Dr. Harkins felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end and he looked away, clearing his throat one more time before quickly taking his seat.

"Let's begin, shall we?" He managed to say.

The two guards sat The Joker down in his seat, further cuffing his arms to the chair before stepping back and standing directly behind him.

"Mr. Joker, my name is…"

"Just Joker." He suddenly spoke.

"… very well." Dr. Harkins answered uneasily. "My name is…"

"I already know who you are." The Joker spoke again.

Dr. Harkins was taken aback by the sound of his patient's voice. It was calm and even, just barley above a whisper. Completely at odds with what the therapist had imagined it would sound like. The voice he heard in his mind had, for some reason, been that of a high pitched, maniacal, jarring sound, not the soft, even relaxing voice he heard now.

"You… do?" The doctor asked.

"Dr. Jeremy Shanning Harkins." The Joker continued. "1999 Harvard Medical graduate, top 2% of your class, former psychiatric residency at two of New York's and Metropolis' more prominent mental institutes."

Dr. Harkins looked dumbstruck. No one had told him that The Joker too would be informed of who his new psychoanalyst was. He tried to remain calm.

"I wasn't aware you were briefed on my credentials." He spoke with measure.

Suddenly The Joker laughed, and it was as terrible as his smile had been. This sound _was _high pitched and sharp, utterly uncontained and uninhibited, a complete contrast to his speaking voice. It was _mad_, _frightening_.

"Oh, dear Doctor, I wasn't _briefed_ on anything. I just simply know!"

Dr. Harkins felt mildly ill. This was no good. They'd been in session less then five minutes and The Joker was already making him look like a jack ass.

"I don't see how you could have known those things unless you were told." Dr. Harkins tried to regain his footing.

Again The Joker laughed.

"I know everything I want to know Dr. Harkins." He answered smoothly.

"And I like to know who it is that is "treating" me." He smiled again.

Dr. Harkins heard Dr. Bartholomew's voice in his mind, telling him not to let The Joker turn the questions on him and to keep his focus on the patient. _"Damn it."_

"That's all very well Joker." The psychiatrist began again. "But let's talk about something else for a moment."

The Joker didn't respond.

"Do you have a real name?"

The Joker suddenly looked intensely uninterested, his eyes wondering away from Harkins to the light overhead and then behind the therapist.

"Well?" Dr. Harkins pushed.

"It must be some sort of written requirement." The Joker spoke at last. "You always start with the same questions."

"Excuse me?" Dr. Harkins asked.

"Joker."

The doctor looked completely lost.

The Joker rolled his eyes, clearly agitated and impatient.

"My _real_ name…" He offered.

"That can't be the name you were born with." Dr. Harkins countered.

"How does that matter?"

"Well, it matters in a lot of ways." The Doctor began, feeling as though maybe he was finally gaining the upper hand. "By continuing to refer to yourself as "The Joker", you're also continuing to harbor and support the persona you've created to go along with it."

The Joker smiled wide before chuckling in a lower, more subdued register then his previous hysterics.

"Very good, Dr. Harkins. You've managed to come up with the same, drab, predictable diagnosis that every other two-bit hack therapist before you has, only you've done so in record time! My, my, I must be in over my head with such an astute observer. Of course, I suppose studying that voluminous case file you've got there helped you in reaching your ultimate conclusions."

"Its common behavior for individuals suffering from disassociation or MPD to create an alternate na…"

The doctor was cut off by The Joker suddenly lunging forward in his seat, bringing his face mere inches from the psychiatrists. The guard's moved forward, ready to pull the mad man back in to his seat, but Harkins put his hand up, stopping them.

"It's fine." He said. He was determined not to let The Joker intimidate him, or at least not to show he was intimidated.

"Do you really believe there's anything _common_ about me, dear doctor?" The Joker whispered, a subtle smile across his lips.

The therapist swallowed. "You display the classic symptoms of several, well documented mental disorders." He began.

The Joker pulled away, throwing his head back and roaring with laughter.

"Oh, Dr. Harkins, you and I are going to have so much fun together." He finally managed after several minutes, needing to catch his breath. "More fun perhaps then even I previously estimated."

The doctor just stared at him, blankly.

The Joker's demeanor changed just then, suddenly, and his face became very serious.

"Persona is the incorrect terminology doctor. There is no one else inside here." He lifted his hands towards his head. "Just Joker." He stared Harkins in the eyes with immense focus, unblinking.

"Mmhmm." Dr. Harkins looked down and began writing on his fresh note pad.

"Overwhelming, narcissistic, egomaniacal tendencies."

"Excuse me?" The therapist looked up.

"That's what you just wrote on the paper there, isn't it?" The Joker grinned.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Harkins tried to sound calm.

The Joker just continued smiling.

Without really being aware, Dr. Harkins turned the note pad face down.

"_How the hell did he know that?"_

"Tell me Dr. Harkins, you're an awfully driven man, aren't you? You certainly fought hard to be here. Lobbying to poor, old Dr. Bartholomew day and night. You must be determined to prove something. Maybe to yourself? Maybe to everyone else? Which is it dear doctor?"

Again Harkins was bum rushed, confused as to how The Joker could know about his efforts to land him as a patient. He tried to not show his discomfort.

"I won't play these games with you Joker."

"Some nagging feeling of inadequacy, deep down in your heart perhaps. Despite all you've achieved, you're telling yourself you could have been so much more, that you could have had some private practice to the stars maybe, and lord knows they need it. But instead you've ended up in here, treating a bunch of psychopathic social deviants."

"Shut up. I _won't_ play this game with you." Dr. Harkins cut in sharply.

"Oh, but you're already playing doctor. Don't you realize? You're already part of the game." The Joker responded immediately, not losing any ground. "But don't fret any, I'm your star. I'm as big and as famous as they come, aren't I? Oh yes Dr. Harkins, you and I are going to have a great deal of fun together."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all your feedback and comments guys. I really appreciate it and I'm glad you're liking the story. Here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it!**

**Chapter 3:**

Dr. Harkins had ended the session shortly thereafter, feeling frustrate and flustered. He had promised himself going in that he wouldn't allow The Joker to get under his skin, that he wouldn't allow himself to become the subject of interrogation, like Dr. Bartholomew had warned against. But the patient had come at him so quickly and with such confidence of his own, that it was as though he had lost control from the moment the session began, like he had never even had it.

He requested a meeting with Dr. Bartholomew almost immediately following the cut-short therapy treatment, hoping for guidance.

"_I told you Jeremy, you __can't__ let him take control!" Bartholomew scolded._

"_I know Sir but… well, if you could have been there, it was like it happened without me even knowing. It happened all so fast…" _

"_Maybe you didn't hear me the first time son. I told you that The Joker is dangerously smart, that he knows just the right things to do and say to get to you, to pull you in whichever direction he wants if you aren't careful. Didn't you listen to anything I told you!?"_

"_I… I did Sir, I did. It's just, I wasn't prepared, I didn't think…"_

_Dr. Bartholomew sighed. _

"_Listen, Jeremy, I like you and I know you're a fine psychiatrist, but maybe you just aren't ready for this. If you feel like you can't handle this particular case, I more then understand."_

"_No Sir! No Sir, I can handle it! I promise you!" Dr. Harkins protested quickly. He had hoped the older man could maybe give him some pointers or some advice on how to handle his new patient better, but he hadn't wanted him to think he couldn't deal with it on his own. _

"_I just hoped that, maybe, you could give me some advice, on how to approach this." He added._

"_The only advice I can give you Jeremy is that, The Joker is unpredictable, at best, but he's always going to be trying to come up with new ways of getting to you, he's always going to try and put __you__ in the hot seat and make you doubt yourself. He never stops thinking Jeremy, he never stops observing, and if you aren't as aware as he is, then what happened to you is going to happen again and again. It's going to happen before you even notice something's gone wrong and Jeremy… I can't tell you how dangerous that can be when dealing with someone like Joker. His goal isn't just to humiliate Jeremy, it's to hurt! He wants to destroy you, believe me. And he will, if you don't stay 100% focused at all times. You have to __pay attention__!"_

Dr. Harkins had promised he would be ready next time, that he wouldn't allow himself to be sucked in to the same trap twice. But it was his own insistence to Dr. Bartholomew that he was indeed capable of handling this case that brought to the forefront of his mind what The Joker had said to him at the end of that initial meeting. About how the doctors own drive came from some hidden sense of inadequacy, how he felt deep down he needed to prove something, and Jeremy began to wonder if maybe The Joker had been right.

He had never thought of his almost obsessive determination in that context before, always just accepting it as part of who he was, telling himself it made him a winner. But now he worried if it was because, deep inside, he felt like a loser.

Dr. Harkins quickly dashed the thoughts from his mind, reminded of Dr. Bartholomew's words, telling him how The Joker's entire goal was to fill one with self-doubt.

"_That's all it is." _Jeremy reassured inside.

For the rest of the week following, he tried to busy himself with other case work, keeping occupied with the asylums other inmates, whom he found considerably less challenging. By the time the next weeks session with The Joker rolled around, Dr. Harkins felt immeasurably better, and ready to begin again. He wouldn't let the same thing happen twice.

"Good morning Joker." Dr. Harkins greeted his patient as he was led in by the same guards from the previous week.

"Good morning Jeremy." The Joker smiled. "May I call you Jeremy?"

Dr. Harkins didn't respond for a moment, wondering in his head if this was another trick.

"I think it's best if you refer to me as doctor." He finally said.

At this The Joker actually pouted, his face falling in to an expression of utter dejection.

"Oh, but Jeremy, the tension is so much less when we're on a first name basis!"

"None the less Joker, I would prefer you refer to me as doctor." Harkins was dead set on not letting the Joker have his way and didn't hesitate to refuse the request a second time, despite The Joker's display of childish dissatisfaction.

"Very well." The patient finally relented after a few, short seconds. "Dr. Harkins."

"There, that's much better." The psychiatrist answered condescendingly and smiled, taking his seat. As before, the two guards sat The Joker down and proceeded to shackle his already manacled hands to the chair.

"So, I thought we'd start off today's session by talking about your up-brining." Harkins began.

"Did I ever tell you the one about the sailor lost at sea?" The Joker suddenly interrupted him. "You see, there was this naval officer who, in a terrible thunder storm, had been washed overboard his ship and…"

"_Joker!_" Harkins cut in. "I will _not_ tolerate you veering off subject. If you continue this behavior, then I will end the session right now and you will be led back to your cell, is that understood?" The doctor was speaking to his patient as though to a small child now, trying to assert his control.

The Joker grinned widely, bearing his straight, white teeth.

"My, my, aren't we the aggressive party pooper." He chuckled.

"I'm very serious Joker. I will not tolerate any misbehavior on your part." Harkins kept his voice calm despite feeling his face flush in annoyance.

"Of course Jeremy, you are, after all, the one in charge."

"Dr. Harkins." The therapist corrected sternly.

"Oh, yes, Dr. Harkins, so sorry. These things do tend to slip my mind."

"Now back on topic, please. Do you remember anything of your childhood?"

The Joker stared silently at him for a moment, the same intensity in his eyes as from their initial encounter.

"I don't believe I can speak about such things while in the presence of such unqualified brutes as the two standing behind me." He suddenly said.

The psychiatrist looked up at the two guards who stood dutifully at the other end of the room. They looked immensely uncomfortable. Harkins thought about the situation only briefly before deciding his patient had a point. How could he be expected to divulge the secretes of his past if he wasn't solely in the presence of a qualified psychoanalyst bound by confidentiality?

"You gentlemen can step outside the door?" Harkins said.

"Sir, with all due respect, I don't think that's such a good id…"

"It will be fine gentlemen. The patient is securely restrained. If I need you, I assure you I won't hesitate to call."

The two guards looked to one another uneasily before finally nodding.

"We'll be _right_ outside. Right outside this door doctor." They reminded.

"I know gentlemen. Don't worry. Everything is under control." Harkins reassured.

And with that, the two hulking men exited, the door slamming shut behind them.

"Now, where were we?" Harkins began.

"My childhood." The Joker refreshed his memory. "You wanted to know how much of it I could recall?"

"Right!" Dr. Harkins exclaimed. "So, is there anything at all? Anything you can tell me?"

"Oh yes Dr. Harkins, I remember my childhood with great vividness."

"Really?!" The therapist lent forward in his seat slightly.

"Oh, don't act so surprised dear doctor. I have the memory of an elephant, or haven't you heard?"

"Well, is there anything you'd like to tell me? Anything about your parent's perhaps?"

The Joker looked thoughtful for a moment, his eyes narrowing.

"I can tell you my father was a raging alcoholic and my mother nothing short of his personal punching bag." He answered with a hint of disdain in his voice.

Harkins looked shocked, unable to hide his surprise at The Joker so readily sharing such revealing details of his past.

"Go on." He encouraged.

"Well," The Joker flicked his chained wrist, "it wasn't Beaver Cleaver, I assure you."

"Would your father ever beat you?" Harkins ventured to ask.

"Oh, absolutely." The Joker supplied without hesitation. "He made certain it was included in our daily activities together. Such dedication that man had."

"Were you… did you feel resentment towards him for it?" The doctor continued to question.

The Joker laughed. "Oh, I killed him for it. So yes, I would say I felt some amount of contempt."

Dr. Harkins mouth hung ajar at the answer, his eyes wide with shock. It took him a moment before he could compose himself enough to continue in his line of questioning.

The sessions hour rolled on quickly, with The Joker detailing to Dr. Harkins many specific details of his father's abuse towards him and other damaging events of his up-brining, including how at the age of 14, he had finally had enough and buried a knife in the old man's back.

By the appointment's end, the young doctor felt a great sense of accomplishment and told The Joker he had done very well, and that he looked forward to their next meeting.

"Me too, Jeremy." The Joker grinned before being led away by the guards.

Dr. Harkins didn't notice how his patient had called him by his first name.

He spent the rest of the next week pouring over the notes he had taken during their last session, piecing together how the events of The Joker's childhood may have had a hand in shaping who he had become today. He even announced to Dr. Bartholomew his excitement over the progress he felt he and his patient had made, not hesitating to brag about how he had taken control of the situation and laid down the law on how things were going to work. He wasn't above gloating, that was certain.

So in coming in to the following week's scheduled appointment, Dr. Harkins felt on top of the world and ready for anything. He was confident, at that point, that he would be the first doctor to ever, really make any sort of significant progress with the resident hopeless case.

"How are you this morning Joker?" He asked the patient after the two guards had taken up their posts outside.

"I'm feeling grand Dr. Harkins. And yourself?"

"Just fine, thank you." The psychiatrist smiled before shuffling and organizing some papers laid out before him.

"I wanted to pick up from where we left off last week. I've made some interesting observations I feel you might be interested in." He announced.

"And where was it we were last week?" The Joker asked, sounding genuinely as though he didn't recall.

"You were telling me about your childhood, about your parent's and the sort of relationship you three had with each other." Dr. Harkins reminded.

A look of confusion spread across The Joker's face.

"I did?"

The smile slowly faded from Jeremy's face and he looked more directly at his patient.

"Yes. Don't you remember? You had gone in to great detail about your father and mother. You even recounted several, specific memories, several episodes of both the mental and physical beatings you suffered at their hands."

Still The Joker held the same expression of confusion.

"Oh, but that's most impossible Dr. Harkins. You see, I don't remember my childhood. I don't recall ever having even been a child. That part of my life is long lost."

"What?! _No_!" Dr. Harkins erupted. "You _told_ me in last weeks session about how your father was…" he looked down at his notes, "a _raging_ alcoholic and how your mother was passive and neglectful. These are _your_ words!"

The Joker just smiled, almost sweetly. "I'm not sure where you might have gotten that from Jeremy."

"God _damn_ it Joker, I won't do this with you! I know you remember telling me this!"

"But how could I have when I don't remember having been a boy to begin with?" The Joker's voice and demeanor remained as calm and airy as ever, while Dr. Harkins felt his blood boiling inside.

An entire week! Wasted on lies! The doctor stood abruptly and called for the guards.

"We're finished." He told them, his face flushed red with anger.

"Hmm, too bad." The Joker quipped. "I do hope I'll be seeing you again next week, Jeremy."

And he laughed loudly as the guards took him from the room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for your feedback guys. I agree that part of what makes The Joker such an amazing and powerful character, and what makes him so appealing, is his intelligence and how he uses his superior intelect to screw with everybody. It's hard to write him because of this, but ya gotta try, lol. Anyway, next chapter. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!**

**Chapter 4:**

Dr. Harkins had given serious consideration to the thought of quitting as The Joker's therapist following their last session, but had convinced himself that was the wrong decision.

"_That's what he wants you to do Jeremy. Don't give in to him!"_

So the next week, he decided to shift gears and pretend the last two appointments had never even occurred. He thought maybe he could try playing on The Joker's guilt and see where that would take them.

"How many people have you murdered Joker?" Harkins asked, his tone cold.

The Joker shrugged. "Oh, I don't know an exact number. A great deal."

"Don't you feel bad about that?! Don't you feel any regret?!" The psychiatrist pushed.

The Joker cocked his head to one side and raised his eyebrows.

"Of course not." He answered, as though the question were an unnecessary one.

"But _how_?! How can you not feel any remorse over all those people who've lost their lives because of you?!"

"They were going to die anyway." The Joker responded nonchalantly.

"What?!" Harkins sounded disgusted and taken aback.

"They were going to die anyway." The Joker repeated. "Eventually. I just sped the process up for them. They should have thanked me, really. I did them a favor."

"You're out of your mind." The doctor mumbled.

"Oh no Jeremy, I'm not. I see very clearly. It's you and everyone else who are confused." The Joker cut him off, his tone growing more serious.

"You see, all of life is a joke, and death is the punch line! That's what I'm always trying to tell them. I'm only trying to help them see the humor. But you know people, so distracted and consumed by the fake, little world they've created around themselves. They don't see the bigger picture."

Dr. Harkins just stared at him in disbelief.

Suddenly The Joker's demeanor changed and the therapist could see disgust flash in the madman's eyes. It was completely unnerving.

"They complain all their lives about how miserable they are, how unhappy and dissatisfied they are, yet when I come along with the promise to end their suffering, they beg and plead and cry about how they don't really want to die."

"But its _murder_ Joker, it's wrong!" Dr. Harkins argued.

"Is it? Says who?" The Joker countered. "Other animals kill each other all the time, and nobody calls that murder, nobody proclaims it to be evil or immoral."

"That's not the same and you know it!" Harkins continued.

"Why isn't it?" The Joker's voice grew even softer.

"Oh, I know what you're going to tell me. Other animals don't have the capacity to comprehend death or what it means like people do, so that makes their demise less poignant, less meaningful. But I have a secrete to share with you, dear doctor. When an animal, any animal, is faced with danger, what do they do? Come on, I know you can tell me!" The Joker's voice grew mocking in tone.

"They..."

"They run! Very good doctor!" The Joker clapped his shackled hands together, the chains clanking loudly. "And why do they run?!"

Harkins just sat, his mouth ajar.

"Because they want to live!" The Joker finished for him, his tone now exuberant. "Oh, but it's just instinct, you say!? They don't really know what it means to die?!" He continued and began to laugh. "Ah, but aren't people just animals too dear doctor, and don't people run away from danger on that same, barbaric instinct, that same sense to self-preserve? You see, Jeremy, I don't think people really know what it means to die either. And they're afraid of it because it isn't something they can explain or control. The will to live is all just "instinct" when you get right down to the basics of it, isn't it Jeremy? And all these rules, all these qualifications of right and wrong, those are just made up codes put in place as a means to preserving ourselves, aren't they Jeremy?"

The therapist sat in silence, totally at a loss.

"Oh, don't look so surprised Jeremy." The Joker chuckled. "The great joke of it is, despite all the effort we put in to _not_ dieing, we're all eventually going to anyway." And he began to laugh with a perverse delight. "Don't you get it? The joke… and the punch line!"

After several minutes The Joker finally began to settle down and he stared at the mute therapist across from him.

"Oh, why do I even bother explaining? Nobody ever sees the humor in it. Always taking them selves too seriously." He said, annoyance in his voice.

"What about you Joker? Are you afraid to die?" Dr. Harkins at last found his voice and braved to ask.

The Joker's eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"Why, no, of course not." He said, as though the answer should have been obvious.

"You aren't? Aren't you afraid of what's going to happen to you, of how you'll be judged?" Dr. Harkins was struggling to gain the upper hand.

"I've already been judged dear doctor, by you and everyone else. What do I have to fear in that?"

"Aren't you afraid of going to hell?"

"Hell?" The Joker laughed. "This is hell." He pressed his finger hard in to his own temple.

"Well you must be afraid of something!" The doctor nearly shouted in disgust and exasperation. "What about Batman?!"

Suddenly The Joker lunged forward and, without Harkins having even seen what or how it happened, the patient's hands were free from their bonds and wrapping quickly around the psychiatrists neck. The Joker's strength betrayed his frail appearance. His hands were powerful and he yanked Dr. Harkins from out of his seat with what seemed incredible ease. The therapist stumbled backward, knocking his chair to the floor with a loud clank and The Joker fell upon him, his hands squeezing tighter and tighter as the doctor struggled to pull them away, baring no results. The Joker was laughing now, insane laughter, high pitched and metallic.

The guards burst through the door just then and immediately they pulled the maniac away, throwing him to the floor violently before taking their night sticks to him. Dr. Harkins gasped desperately for breath as he coughed and hacked, his hand coming up to his already aching neck and messaging it. Several more seconds would need to pass before he regained full awareness and he stared on in absolute horror as he watched the guards beating The Joker mercilessly with their clubs while the lunatic _laughed_. He just laughed and laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, encouraging them to hit him harder with the passing of each blow. When finally they were satisfied he couldn't get up, they turned him over and slammed a new pair of handcuffs over his wrists, before dragging him to his feet and pulling him towards the door.

"Remember Jeremy…" The Joker's voice floated weakly back over his shoulder, his face a bloody and already bruising mess. "I'm not afraid of anything. Not even Batsy."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

Dr. Harkins sat silently in his office, contemplating the last day's events, his near death experience and how he had been gripped with a fear unlike anything he'd ever known. He had already started to black out from the lack of oxygen when the guards finally came through that door. Half a minute more and he was sure it would have been over for him. And then the sight of The Joker being beaten to within an inch of his life it seemed, and how he just laughed while it was happening. He didn't cry out in pain or try to get away, he just laid there and giggled manically, mocking the guards even while being raked across the face and body by their clubs. The sight alone chilled Dr. Harkins nearly as much as the fleeting moments in which he was certain he was going to die.

There was a knock at his door just then and Jeremy looked up to find Dr. Bartholomew standing there, looking tentative.

"Can I come in?" He asked, concern in his voice.

Harkins just nodded.

"I heard what happened." Bartholomew began. "No matter what kind of restraints we come up with, that maniac always finds a way to get loose from them." He shook his head. Dr. Harkins just stared absently.

The older man cleared his throat nervously. This was a delicate situation.

"Jeremy, if you don't want to continue with The Joker, I totally understand."

"_NO_!... No, I… I won't let him intimidate me Sir. I _won't_."

Bartholomew sighed.

"I know you've got your pride to consider son." He paused. "But you see what I meant now, don't you? About how dangerous he is? This isn't just another run of the mill, deranged psychotic Jeremy, this is an entirely different animal."

Harkins didn't respond.

"Son, can you tell me what you said to The Joker that might have set him off like that? Do you remember what you were talking about before he attacked you?"

The young doctor shook his head. "I… I don't remember."

More silence.

"Batman…" He suddenly spoke. "I… I asked him if he was afraid of Batman."

Dr. Bartholomew sighed again in knowing frustration.

"I should have warned you about that." He chastised to himself more then said to Dr. Harkins.

"About what!?"

"Batman. The Joker hates Batman."

"It seems to me like The Joker hates everything." Dr. Harkins mumbled in disgust.

"Yes, but Batman makes him angry." Dr. Bartholomew cut in. "For various reasons we've speculated on, but nothing we know for sure, since he never actually gives anyone a straight answer on anything. Just the mention of his name incites him though."

"Why? Do you… do you think it's because he really _is_ afraid of him?" Dr. Harkins questioned.

Dr. Bartholomew shook his head. "No. It's not that. The Joker isn't afraid of anything. He'll tell you that him self, and it's true. He's been exposed more then a few times to Dr. Cranes fear toxin, and that stuff scares the living day lights out of _everybody_. Even Batman himself is affected by it, yet it does nothing to Joker. That stuff makes you envision whatever your greatest fear is, and each time The Joker's been caught by it, he just laughs and acts incredibly amused, _delighted _even. It's as though it doesn't conjure anything up in him, because there's nothing there to conjure up in the first place. Like his brain, rather then producing the hormones which normally get released when we're faced with danger or a threat of some kind, either physical or emotional, instead releases endorphins, feel good hormones, or feelings of excitement. If it does make him see anything, he isn't frightened by it, that much is apparent. He's attacked guards who've had firearms pointed directly at his face, or even when he's outnumbered ten to one, he'll hurl himself in to a fight. He isn't afraid of pain; he isn't afraid of being beaten up or further disfigured. He isn't afraid to die even. He doesn't want anything but to make others suffer. He doesn't care about money or relationships or any sort of socially implemented values. That's why he's so dangerous Jeremy. You can't intimidate someone like that; you can't persuade or bribe them, you can't do _anything_ to stop them. He uses his talents, of which there are many, believe me, for the sole purpose of harming you, and for no reason other then that. His culture and charm, his ability to talk to you, to even make himself sound as sane as any other man, his deep understanding of and what seems like apparent appreciation for philosophy and things like fine art and tailored fashions, he uses those qualities to whew and seduce. His intelligence, his knowledge and understanding of human emotions and desires, he uses that to out-maneuver, to leave you at a disadvantage, to glean your weaknesses and use them against you. His brilliance in chemicals and genetic sciences he uses only to produce damaging and lethal toxins. Everything he does, every _move_ he makes, is to somehow gain control of you and, ultimately, bring you to your demise… He's completely sick."

"Then why does Batman bother him so much?" Harkins pleaded, wanting to understand, if even in just the slightest sense, why everything in his last session had gone so terribly wrong.

"Because he can't scare him." Dr. Bartholomew said. "At least, that's part of the reason, we believe. It's a strange dynamic between those two, and anyone who's studied the relationship will tell you this. The Joker obsesses over the Bat and, although we can't know for certain how much time the vigilante spends thinking about The Joker, I can tell you that every time that mad man escapes, Batman responds more quickly to the call then to any other inmate having done the same, _much _more quickly."

Dr. Harkins listened intently.

"It's like they're one in the same, like they represent to each other the opposite side of the same coin. Batman would never admit this, but The Joker knows it. We think that's why, while he obviously loathes Batman, he seems to at the same time admire and respect him, maybe because he's reminded of himself when he looks at the man, and The Joker is hugely egotistical. He makes it a habit to reiterate the similarities to anyone who will listen, most especially to Batman himself. Both of them want to elicit fear, but for opposing reasons. Batman because he wants to stop crime, The Joker because he gets some sort of sick pleasure from seeing people petrified. Both of them are fearless, yet again for contrasting reasons, Batman because he is wholly committed to his crusade, precisely because he _does care_, The Joker because he simply _doesn't care_, about _anything_. One represents law and order while the other represents anarchy and chaos. I've thought often that Batman would end up in here someday, and The Joker has made known he thinks likewise."

"My God…How do you know all this? Has The Joker told you?"

"The Joker's said a few things here and there which clued me in." Dr. Bartholomew answered. "But some of it comes from having observed their interaction together myself."

"But… how?" Harkins was confused.

"They had it out here once, right on the asylums door step. I'll never forget it." The older man paused and his eyes wondered about, as though searching for the right words. "Batman had dragged Joker back in after he'd been on the loose for months. The city police department was there, as was I and all of Arkham's security staff. We were out waiting for them by the two front doors in the reception area. I can still see it. Batman was dragging The Joker by the collar of his shirt, which looked to be soaked in blood, he had his hands cuffed from behind, and The Joker was mumbling something incoherent. It seemed like there wasn't going to be much of a problem getting him back in to staff custody. He looked to be totally out of it. But one thing I've learned with The Joker is that, things are never as they appear when he's involved. As Batman was dragging him up the steps, he pulled another of his escape stunts and before anyone knew what had happened, his hands were free and I can still see it, he flicked his wrist and a playing card, a shining playing card with edges that looked as sharp as a god-damned samara sword fell in to his hand from the sleeve of his shirt, and he buried the thing straight in to Batman's arm. Batman of course dropped him, a reflex reaction to the pain and, quick as a cat, The Joker was on his feet. He was ragged. He'd obviously had the hell beat out of him by Batman and it looked like he was in pain, but I'm sure you've gleaned by now that the sheer force of The Joker's will gives him an uncanny physical intensity and strength, one you'd think to look at him he didn't have, and even when his body is struggling, his mind gives it all the life and energy it needs."

"_Come on Batsy Boob, I know you aren't going to let a little scratch like that stop you from pummeling me!" The Joker taunted the masked man, standing only two feet back. _

_Police Commissioner Gordon stepped forward. _

"_Men, take him!" He yelled, pointing at the deranged lunatic._

"_NO!" Batman screamed, putting his hand up, stopping them dead in their tracks. The last thing he wanted was a hostage situation. He knew the second any of those men got near to his arch nemesis, he would have them around the throat, some sharp object pressed against their corroded artery. _

_The Joker laughed. "That's right. We wouldn't want that joke of a police force cutting in on our little dance now, would we?"_

_Batman lunged forward, latching on to The Joker's arms, swinging him around violently, letting go in time for him to crash hard in to the steps of the asylum entrance. The Joker laughed and whizzed with the pain, holding the side he'd landed on._

"_Ohh..hoho, that was a good one Sweet tart." He chuckled. "I think maybe you only broke a couple ribs this time though."_

_Again Batman came at him, only The Joker rolled away from the punch and, having gained the upper hand, brought his elbow down in to the vigilantes back, knocking him on to his face, before jumping again to his feet and scampering a few feet away._

"_Come on Fatman, aren't you supposed to be the one in Olympian form? How ever did you miss that shot? I'm the one with all the broken parts, including my mind!" He laughed madly and ran towards Batman, just as he was whirling around to face his enemy, kicking him in the side with his heeled shoes. The metal tips on the toe ends dug sharply in to Batman's ribs, causing him to grit his teeth in agony. And then The Joker just stopped, staring down at him, blowing air. His expression was suddenly one of boredom and he gestured theatrically, putting his hands on his hips, rolling his head and eyes in apparent exasperation._

"_This is no fun darling! If you don't get up and fight, then where's the sport in all this? Your problem is, you take this all too seriously. If you would just lighten up, then this would be so much more enjoyable. But, then, we'd be the same exactly, wouldn't we? And I can't really afford to lose the acts straight man…"_

"_I'm __nothing__ like you!" Batman growled, his voice filled with rage._

"_Oh, but you are Sweets! You and I are the same person, just simply from alternate realities, and somehow we ended up here together, and you know the rules, no two life forms can occupy the same niche at the same ti…"_

_He was cut off by Batman suddenly grabbing his ankles and pulling his feet out from under him, causing him to land squarely on his back against the pavement below, hitting his head. Batman stood up as The Joker struggled over on to his side and attempted to push himself to his feet. The vigilante didn't take any chances, brining his foot up in to the madman's stomach and already smashed rib cage, effectively putting The Joker back on his face before grabbing him by his hair, pulling him up and smashing his fist in to his jaw, knocking him cold. _

"_You talk too much Joker." _

"The Joker later would brag how he had pretended he was incapacitated all the way to Arkham simply so he could bring up how much they were alike in front of practically the entire GPD and asylum staff. He just wanted to make Batman uncomfortable and angry, to embarrass him in front of everyone, and he was willing to take even more of a beating to accomplish this. He didn't care." Dr. Bartholomew finished. "I swear to God, I think that lunatic actually likes pain. He seems almost to relish in it."


	6. Chapter 6

This is the last chapter on this story guys. I hope it turned out alright, as it's only the second story in this genre I've ever written. Thank you for your feedback and for reading! I've got another story going right now, called "For You", which follows how The Joker drove Harley Quinn insane. I'm trying to really show how it was done, detailing how their sessions went specifically, and giving the story from both characters point of view, to see how each is seeing the events from totally opposing view points. Basically, how Harley is getting WAY played, lol. Anyway, check that out if you want. And thanks again!

**Chapter 6:**

Dr. Harkins had decided to push forward, despite his better instincts to quit while he still had a chance. Something inside him wouldn't tolerate the humiliation of saying he had failed as miserably as everyone else before him, and so he kept on, even allowing his embarrassment over the previous meetings events to get in the way of his rational, insisting that the two guards continue in standing outside the room, not in. They, of course, protested, telling him that, given what had happened the last time, it was wholly unwise. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

The next few sessions which followed were less fruitful then any previous, with The Joker remaining utterly silent throughout the hour, doing nothing other then to stare Dr. Harkins directly in the eyes for the duration of their time together, staring with that same, focused intensity as Jeremy had been faced with the first time they met. The Joker never looked away, rarely even blinked and, after a time, the young doctor would avert his eyes, ending the treatment early.

At one point, during the second of one such meeting, after glancing away momentarily, Dr. Harkins looked up to find The Joker holding a deck of cards in one hand, shuffling the things with a fluidity and control only seen in top magicians, one card flipping over and between the others in rapid succession. The psychiatrist had no idea how his patient had gotten the playing cards in to the room, as the guards had padded him down, theroly it seemed, before even allowing him to enter. Harkins thought about calling for the guards, but The Joker wasn't doing anything, wasn't suggesting any threat, and the doctor thought it better not to incite him by calling for help when there was no apparent need for it.

"Pick a card." The Joker suddenly spoke, holding the splayed deck out before him.

Dr. Harkins swallowed heavily, sweat breaking out over his brow. He glanced down at the cards before bringing his eyes slowly back up to the now grinning face of his patient.

"No… no, we're here to discuss you Joker, not play cards." He dared to say, still trying to give off an air of calm and control.

The Joker eyed him intently for a brief moment before shrugging, then resuming to shuffle the deck in the same hand. He remained silent for the remainder of the session.

It was because of this halt in anything, not just progress, but any form of communication, that Dr. Harkins was led to the somewhat desperate decision of again bringing up Batman during their next appointment. He knew it was dangerous, but if they were going to continue like this, then there wasn't any point at all, and he needed to get some sort of reaction out of him.

The session started off as their last several had, The Joker sitting silent, looking Dr. Harkins in the face. The psychiatrist cleared his throat nervously before daring to utter his next words.

"Let's talk about Batman." He managed, his voice carrying a noticeable tremor and just barely above a whisper.

The Joker suddenly jerked back and he sat up even more straight, causing the doctor to involuntarily flinch away at the abrupt movement.

"Batman!?" the patient said with exuberance. "Mother, brother, sister, friend, wound so tight, he will not bend!" And then he began with the laughter.

"Why does he bother you so much?!" Dr. Harkins tried to cut him off, his voice laced with annoyance.

"Bother me?" The Joker sounded confused. "Who ever said he does?"

"You can't seriously tell me that he doesn't at least get to you with the way you reacted to his name the last time I mentioned him!" Harkins grew more bold in his agitation.

"Oh, that wasn't in response to the mention of dear, old Batsy doctor, I was merely trying to prove to you a point." He giggled incessantly.

"I don't buy that Joker. He makes you angry! Why? Is it because he's always ruining your plans?"

The Joker stopped laughing but smiled widely. "Why, absolutely! Blast the bat, he's always interfering in my well laid schemes, always melding in my affairs!" The Joker's voice held obvious mockery.

Dr. Harkins looked incredulous.

"No, that's not it, is it? It's something else, something deeper."

The Joker snapped his fingers and laughed loudly.

"Someone's been talking to Dr. Bartholomew agaaaain." He answered in a sing-song voice.

"What is it Joker? Tell me."

"Still with the persistence doctor. My, you _are_ a driven man."

A moment of silence past.

"Batman is a lost soul, the poor dear, and I just want to set him right." The Joker finally said, continuing to grin. "Oh, he's so strung out, I'm afraid he may snap at any instant."

"Why do you care?" Dr. Harkins ventured.

"He and I are very much alike doctor. In our differences lie our similarities! I am the darkness to his light, I am the ying to his yang, or is it his yang to my ying? Oh, who knows?! But he won't admit to this, because his child's mind finds the prospect simply too unbearable." The Joker's voice grew low and menacing, drawn out. "He's a smart boy though, almost smart like me. Deep down, he knows… I just hate to see such potential go to waste! Though he does provide the perfect straight man for the act! But he does it so begrudgingly. He has no fun at all. Isn't that sad?"

"Tragic." Dr. Harkins answered sarcastically.

"Yes, tragic!" The Joker interjected, sounding excited. "He regards it with far too much gravity, the unfortunate thing! Makes me think some unfathomable trauma struck him at a young age, he suffers from such low self-esteem! He's so unhappy! He'll die with that misery if he keeps on this way you know." The Joker paused, looking thoughtful. "I just want to see him smile!"

The psychiatrist stared, at a loss for to what to say.

"But enough about that bore!" The Joker interrupted his thoughts. "Tell me, Jeremy, why so stoic? When first we met, you appeared much more upbeat." He gasped in sudden dramatics. "It's not… the sting of failure, is it Jeremy? I know you had such high hopes coming in to this place, such dreams!"

"Stop it Joker. This isn't about me, this is about you!" Dr. Harkins objected.

"Oh, but it _is_ about you Jeremy. It has been from the start. You needed to prove something to yourself doctor, you needed to stamp out that growing feeling of disillusionment and self-loathing, didn't you?"

"Stop it." Dr. Harkins voice was weak now.

"You thought that by taking on this burgs most notorious psychopath, you could finally build a name; establish yourself as somehow better at what you do then the rest." The Joker laughed cruelly. "But you're not special Jeremy…" He continued. "You're not even on the high end of average. I've faced some real heavyweights, dear doctor, people who make you look entirely sub-par, and they wound up just the same. You've got nothing to offer, no challenge to present." Again The Joker laughed, the sound becoming more and more malicious.

"I told you to _stop_ it!" Dr. Harkins voice suddenly became loud as he lost his mind, rage and confusion overtaking him, and he lunged across the table, his hands outreached, ready to clutch his tormentor. The Joker leaned back just enough so that the doctors grasp fell short, and he stood, freeing his wrists, again with ease, from the shackles which bound them.

"Tsk, tsk, Jeremy." The Joker spoke softly, brining his hands over the doctors flushed face, clamping his long fingers around his mouth. "That was a mistake. I was going to let you go with little more then feelings of self-doubt and a shattered ego, but now you've gone and made me angry. I am disappointed in you dear doctor. No show of restraint, no composure."

Dr. Harkins began to struggle, trying desperately to free himself from the lunatics grasp, but The Joker easily brought him down, pressing his hand harder still across the psychiatrist's mouth and nose, effectively muffling any sounds he might make, while pinning his legs with his knees and laying his other forearm lightly across the therapists throat.

"Shh, shh, shh, Jeremy." The Joker hushed him. "You have only yourself to blame now." His voice had dropped to a whisper as he leaned in close to the doctor's ear and spoke. "Just relax. It will all be over soon."

Dr. Harkins tried manically to call out for help, but The Joker's hand was wrapped around his lower face in a vice-like grip and his forearm was now pressing harder against his wind pipe.

"Of course, the more you struggle, the longer I can drag this process out, dear doctor." The Joker relayed softly. But still the psychiatrist fought, thrashing about madly, digging his fingers in to The Joker's own hands, yet it seemed to do nothing to deter the mad man, as though he didn't even feel the pain.

"Ah, ah, ah Jeremy, what did I tell you about that?" The Joker whispered. "You do have this as your consolation my friend. You always wanted to be the first in something. Well, you'll be the first psychiatrist I've ever kille… Oh, wait, no you won't, never mind." And he cackled madly.

And then Dr. Harkins felt it, his larynx collapsing in, crushed, the only noise now coming from his throat a faint wheeze, no matter how he tried to scream as he felt himself slowly begin to lose oxygen.

"Very good Dr. Harkins. Now isn't that better? " The Joker smiled more broadly, removing his hand from the doctors mouth, sitting up, looking down at the flailing body.

"Oh, my, just like a fish out of water. So sad, so desperate. It should really be put out of its misery." He continued to laugh, and the last thing Dr. Harkins saw, as he starred up, struggling infintilely for air, was the light, almost flurecent green of The Joker's eyes, filled with an incredible viciousness and delight, before the air went completely out of his lungs, and the world just faded to black.

"Don't be sad Jeremy…" The Joker spoke softly to the lifeless body, patting the doctors cooling cheek. "You forced the joke early my dear. I was obliged to deliver the punch line."


End file.
